Like Father, Like Son
by abharding
Summary: A Coda to Pathfinder. A pair log entries...


Like Father, Like Son (A Coda to Pathfinder)   
Ann B. Harding   
  
Voyager, Starfleet and Tom and Owen Paris are all owned by Paramount Pictures. I just  
borrowed them for this little tale.   
  
Summery: A look at pair of logs.   
  
Note: Stardates are approximate   
  
Like Father, Like Son   
Admiral Owen Paris   
Person Log Stardate 53514.9  
  
I talked to my son today. I was finally able to tell him a some things I should have told  
him long ago. He didn't reply, but I know he heard me. At least that is what Kathryn Janeway  
said.   
  
It is funny how things turn out sometime. When Kathryn Janeway first suggested that  
Tom be the one to help her track down the missing Maquis ship, I'd hoped she would be able  
to act as a bridge of sorts between my son and I.. I though she might be able to help us to  
re-establish contact and maybe even some kind of relationship. I never thought it would happen  
the way it did She was literally acting as a go between at that moment. I don't know if it was  
because Tom did not think we should waste time and bandwidth for personal reasons, if he  
thought that only the captain should speak, or if he was simply to stunned to speak. I longed to  
hear Tom's voice reply, but Kathryn's "He heard you Admiral" was more then an acceptable  
consolation.   
  
There was a time when I thought that he would never hear what I longed to tell him. He   
was gone, as so were my hopes of repairing our damaged relationship. Then came the reports of  
of the Prometheus' EMH encounter with it's.... his Voyager counterpart. It was the first  
evidence we had that Voyager had not been destroyed in the Badlands. Until then point the only  
hope that the Voyager families had was the lack of wreckage. Some had even hoped that  
Voyager that maybe the crew had been captured by the Cardassians. I didn't though. I would  
have rather Tom and the others be dead then in hands of those butchers. Not that I wanted my  
son to be dead, but I been a prisoner Cardassians, and it was not something I would have wished  
on my worst enemy, let alone my youngest child.   
  
When I heard of the encounter between the two holograms, there was new hope.. An  
energy being pulling Voyager to the other side of the galaxy in an effort to find a suitable mate  
was not something that was on Starfleet's list of likely explanations. True, we had lost a some  
ships without a trace of wreckage, some Federation cargo ships, the Equinox, one of Starfleet's  
nova-class starship but I never really thought of anything other then the ship's destructions.  
  
The other side of the galaxy.... Things like that were almost unheard of - at least in this  
day and age. It was almost like something out of the days Kirk and Spock. But it had  
happened. Tom, Kathryn Janeway, Tuvok and many others were still alive. There had been a  
number of deaths, many when during when Voyager had been dragged to the other side of  
galaxy, but all in all there had been very few deaths. But Tom was alive. At first that was all  
that matter. My son was alive. True, there was almost no hope of them reaching Federation  
space within the next few decades. There was almost no hope of my ever seeing him again, but  
he was alive.   
  
I also learned how well he had adjusted to his life in the Delta Quadrant. Chief of Flight  
Operations, Chief Flight instructor. He was a valuable part of the Voyager's Senior Staff. He  
had the respect of his captain. It was everything I had ever wanted of him, everything I knew he  
was capable of and more. And there had one job I never would have considered for him. .  
Medical Assistant and Field Medic. In fact the EMH seemed to quite enamored with him. And if  
the hologram's reports were any indication Janeway was as well.   
  
I told him how proud I was in a letter that was transmitted though the same array Voyager  
had used to send the EMH, but to this day, I do not know if he ever received it. The array was  
destroyed a short time after we sent the messages, and Starfleet was never able to confirm if  
Voyager had received the message to go to that array, never mind all of the message that were  
sent though the array. Even if he got the message, I don't know if he would have even read it.   
Our last encounter is not one I care to remember. The things I said to him. The things we said to  
each other. That was why it was so important to let him know that I was proud of him, and more  
importantly that I missed him. That he has home in here the Alpha Quadrant.   
  
  
  
Personal Log Ensign Tom Paris  
Stardate 53514.9  
  
I heard my father's voice today.   
  
I still am not sure I believe it. Not only did I hear his voice, but something else happened  
today. Across 35,000 light years, with the method of the transmission collapsing, he asked   
Janeway to tell me he missed me.. Me... the one he said had disgraced the Paris name. The one  
he was so ashamed of. That he missed was surprising enough.... but the next words were even  
more of shock. "And that I am proud of him."   
  
He was proud me. He missed me. He was proud of me.   
  
I wanted to reply, but I couldn't find the words. I was literally speechless. Not like when  
Captain Janeway gave my field commission all those years ago, and I replied I didn't know what  
to say. At the time I didn't, but at least I had enough wits left to make that stupid joke. This  
time though, when I heard that voice over the speakers, I really was speechless. I couldn't say  
anything. It was all I could do to remember to breathe.   
  
A part of me didn't want to say anythng, for fear it would the spell. Maybe this was all  
some sort of dream or hallucination. It certainly would not have been the the first something like  
that had happened on this ship. The voices on the loudspeakers could have been just the next in  
a long line of shattered dreams?   
  
He was proud of me. My father was proud of me. A small part of me wondered if he  
would be so proud when he learned about what happened a year ago, but right then it didn't  
matter. For a short time, my father had been proud of me. And if I had earned his pride once, I  
could and would earn it again.   
  
He missed me. I never thought I would hear him say that. Not after what happened the  
last time we saw each other. I thought that he didn't really care what happened to me, or where I  
was. Though to be honest I didn't really care what happened to me either.   
  
The really strange thing is that I had all ready been thinking about my relationship with  
my father recently. After B'Elanna near-death experience, her journey to Gethor and her  
"reunion" with her mother on the Barge of the Dead she needed to talk to someone. I think she  
knew that I would understand better then anyone what she was going through. After all, my  
relationship with my father is very similar to her relationship with her mother. When she said  
that she had been thinking about how some of her the events in her childhood might not have  
been as bad as she remembered, it got me thinking about my own memories. Were they really  
as bad as I thought?   
  
Not to long ago, I don't know how I would have answered that, but I know now that the  
answer is no. I do have some good memories of times with my father, and not just when he was  
letting me fly old shuttles, or reading me old Jules Verne stories - though those are still some of   
my favorites. He wasn't always yelling at me to do better, although it may have felt like it at the  
time.   
  
This is not to say we didn't have our problems. We did, especially as I got older, and  
began resisting all of his plans for me. He thought command was where I belonged, and all I  
wanted to do was fly. To him flying had been a means to an end, a way climb through the ranks.   
To me flying was the end. He never understood that.  
  
When I lost that letter my father had sent through the array, B'Elanna told me to just  
believe that he was trying to reach out to me. I told her would, but even then I didn't believe it.  
Not really. I was so sure he still hated me. Now, I wonder if he ever did. . Maybe he really had  
been trying to reach out to me.   
  
Just about everyone on Voyager has asked how I am, and what is more fustrating is most  
them seem to think I should be able to tell them How can I tell anyone what I am feeling, when  
I am not sure what my feelings are. Funny though, the ones I most would be likely to confide in,  
Harry, B'Elanna, Neelix, even the Doc haven't. They seem to know I am not gable to reply, at  
least not right away. I still need time. It is all so strange... The words I heard this afternoon are  
ones I have longed my whole life to hear.   
  
When the Captain asked me to make a toast, I gave a very superficial one, but at the  
time, I wasn't sure what else to say... so I fell back on some old friends, humor and  
sidestepping. I focused on the real hero in all of this, the man who made it possible for me to  
hear those words...   
  
I heard my father's voice today. He told me he was proud of me. He told me he missed  
me. And in a indirect way he told me I have a home in the Alpha Quadrant.   



End file.
